


Patchwork Love

by Austinattack



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Banter, Bottom Zayn, Dancing, Drinking, Drunk Kissing, Friends With Benefits, Grinding, Happy Ending, Kissing, Like you probably won't even notice, M/M, Oral Sex, Pining, Strangers to Lovers, Teasing, Top Harry, Wrist holding, lots of banter, mentions of past larry, very very light Dom/sub, zarry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-05 04:17:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11005797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Austinattack/pseuds/Austinattack
Summary: Harry sees Zayn everywhere before he knows who he is. He's crushing hard, and when he finally gets to talk to him, finds out Zayn has been noticing him too. Though, Zayn isn't interested in anything other than having a good time. Harry hopes he can charm his way into Zayn's life for more than just one night.





	Patchwork Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [longhairzarry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/longhairzarry/gifts).



> Wowza! I finished a fic! Amazing. Incredible. Anyway.  
> This is for the Spring 2017 Zarry Fic Exchange, written for longhairzarry. I hope it was at least sort of what you wanted!  
> Thanks to my beta, Alyce, for catching a bunch of stuff and making me more coherent sounding.  
> Thanks to Hayley, Jess, and Julia for reading it over and telling me how -flips hair- AMAZING it is :P  
> Special thanks to my beta, Amanda, (nich0lasmatthews) for listening to me ramble and rant and complain about this for months, and for helping with ideas and moving things along. Not sure I could have done it without you! :’D  
> The title is from the As It Is song “Patchwork Love.” The song really has nothing to do with the story, lol.

The first time Harry had a crush on someone, he was five years old, and it was August, the summer before he started his first day of school. He was at the park with his mother, playing in the sandpit beside the swings. A girl with red hair was sat beside him, using a bright orange rake to dig in the sand. Harry was staring at her, too afraid to say hi. It was then, that a boy with blonde hair plopped down beside him.

“Want to use my shovel?” he asked, offering a green tool to Harry. He had freckles and blue eyes. He smiled.

Harry nodded, accepting the shovel, and poked it into the sand, scooping some up to pour into his own pail. The red-haired girl got up to go on the swings.

“That’s my favorite color,” the boy said, pointing to Harry’s blue pail.

“Mine too,” Harry answered, and he smiled this time. “Do you wanna help me build a castle?”

The boy nodded, scooting closer to Harry, so he could scoop up sand with his hands, dumping it into the pail. “My name is George.”

“My name’s Harry,” Harry said, patting the top of the filled pail, before together, the boys flipped it, laughing when the too dry sand just poured out.

When Harry went to his first day of school, he found out that George was in his class. It made Harry happy to know that he already had a friend. They colored together and played with dinosaur toys and built towers from blocks. On the fifth day of school Harry told George he wanted to get married to him. But George already had plans to marry Elizabeth.

 

When Harry got home from school that day, he cried, even though his mother made him chocolate chip cookies. She told him that his love was very big, and that he could give it to a lot of people--that George wasn’t the only one Harry would ever love, so he shouldn’t worry too much over it.

It made him feel better, even if his tummy still felt funny.

 

When Harry was thirteen, he fell in love with his maths teacher. She had dark hair and brown eyes, and she always laughed at Harry’s jokes. He was crushed when she denied the invitation to join him at the Spring Formal.

“I’m far too old for you, Harry,” she told him, smiling kindly at him. “I’m sure there are loads of other girls who would love to go with you.”

He didn’t end up going with anyone.

 

When Harry graduated high-school, he’d had his fair share of relationships, and as he walked down the length of the stage to collect his diploma, he made eye contact with the class president--his most recent ex. She’d just broken up with him three days earlier. She smiled at him, but he didn’t return it.

While his friends all took a gap year, Harry went right to University to study English. He dormed with a blue-eyed boy named Louis, who made it very clear that he wasn’t looking for anything more than friendship. It didn’t stop Harry from having a crush on him. Didn’t stop them from having sex a few times, either.

But Harry got over it when he fell in love with a girl, who loved him back just the same. They were together the last two years of Harry’s Uni career, though, they mutually broke it off after graduation, since Harry planned to move to the United States with Louis--both of them wanting to try for jobs in California.

It had been a tearful goodbye, but a necessary one.

 

When Harry was twenty-four, he saw an angel walk by him in the grocery store. He was in the cereal aisle, already with three boxes of Louis’ favorites, and he was reaching for the fourth when a man walked by. Black hair, stubble on his jaw, and hooded, chocolate eyes focused on the cereals directly in front of Harry. He was the most beautiful thing Harry had ever seen.

Harry stared at the man, eyes wide, and he grabbed the first box his fingers touched. “Sorry,” he murmured, stepping back, so the man could get at the row.

“S’all right,” the man said, his voice low and quiet and English. Harry’s eyes fluttered.

The man grabbed a box of Fruit Loops, glanced at Harry, and offered an awkward smile before he stepped out of the aisle.

Harry watched him go, his heart pounding in his chest. He walked around the entire store again, hoping to get another glimpse of the incredibly handsome stranger. No luck, though.

***

“Why the fuck did you buy Cheerios?” Louis asked, looking appalled as he sorted through the grocery bags on the counter. “Where is the Cap’n Crunch, Harry?!”

“I saw a cute boy today,” Harry answered, putting the bread away. “He was pretty. Probably prettier than you.”

Louis scoffed at that, rolling his eyes as he tossed the box of Cheerios onto the floor. “Yeah, I bet. Is that why you didn’t get the right fuckin’ cereal?”

Harry shrugged, and sighed softly, opening the refrigerator to set the milk inside. “Maybe _you_ should do the shopping.”

“Maybe I should,” Louis answered, huffing as he put all of his cereal away. “No more kale. No more asparagus. No more zucchini.”

“Lou, you like zucchini,” Harry reminded him, smirking.

“Oh well. No more!”

Harry laughed, shaking his head fondly as he finished storing the boxes of pasta in the cupboard. “You can cook dinner tonight, too.”

Louis turned to look at Harry, clearly amused. “Chinese, then. Now. Tell me about this boy that’s prettier than me,” he said, hopping up onto the counter. 

***

The next time Harry saw the god-like, most handsome man in the universe, was at Starbucks, at 8:30 in the morning a few days later. Harry just stepped into the long line, when he looked up from his phone, eyes locking on the profile of the same man from the cereal aisle.

“Zayn?” the barista called, holding out a cup.

The man Harry was watching-- _Zayn_ \--took it, nodding his thanks before he walked out, not passing a glance in Harry’s direction.

Harry’s eyes followed him though, watching until he had left through the doors. _Zayn_. He even had a beautiful name. He sighed, closed his eyes for a moment, and wondered why he’d never seen him before that week. Maybe Zayn had just moved to town or something.  
  
When Harry finally got his own morning coffee, he hurried to work, barely getting there on time. He’d been working at a small middle school, substituting for the 7th grade English teacher who was on maternity leave, and he already loved it. He liked the kids he got to work with, and they seemed to like him, too, which was definitely a bonus. They were currently reading _Deathwatch_ , which, Harry read through on his own rather quickly, and it was exciting how into it the students were. During class that day, as a group, the kids decided on making posters for the final project due in a week after they finished the book. Surprisingly, all the other classes wanted to make posters, too. What kind of kids wanted posters over book reports?!

Harry’s day ended at two, and instead of going right home, he made a trip into town to the little craft store. He had his list: poster paper, markers, glitter, stickers, glue, note cards. Maybe he went a little over board--his arms full of supplies as he made his way to the register. His heart stopped though, eyes widening when he saw who was sat behind the counter.  
  
“How are you today?” Zayn asked, his eyes briefly meeting Harry’s. “Did you find everything all right?”

Harry couldn’t stop staring, couldn’t make his voice work properly, and he just nodded once, dropping his armful of supplies onto the counter. “Thanks, good. Great,” he said. “I mean, yes. I found everything. Thank you.”

Zayn just nodded, and he started to ring up the bottles of glitter. He didn’t look up at Harry. Harry watched Zayn’s hands, noticing ink peeking out from under the sleeves of the sweater he was wearing.

“Thirty-four fifty,” Zayn told him after he put everything into a plastic bag.

Harry looked up at Zayn’s face again, eyes a bit wide. “Oh, what?”

Zayn raised an eyebrow, and reached up to tap the screen facing harry that showed the money he owed.

“Oh! Right,” Harry said, fumbling for his wallet. He dropped it on the floor, of course, bent down to pick it up, and he handed Zayn two twenties.

Zayn quickly got Harry his change, and offered a tight smile. “Have a nice day.”

“Thank you,” Harry said, smiling at him as he pocketed his change. He’d already put his wallet away and he couldn’t risk dropping it again. “You too. Have a great day,” he added, grabbing his bag, and hurrying out of the building as his cheeks heated up. “Stupid,” he grumbled at himself, pouting as he headed for his car.

 

“Louuuuis,” Harry whined when he got home that night, dumping his bags by the door before throwing himself onto the couch.

“What?” Louis asked from where he was working on his computer in the lounge chair.

“I saw that guy again today,” Harry started, face still buried in the couch. “Twice. His name is Zayn and he’s beautiful and I think I’m going to die.”

Louis chuckled at that, pushed his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose, and glanced at Harry. “Why are you going to die, drama queen?”

“Because I can’t even speak like a proper human around him!” Harry whined. He knew he was probably exaggerating, but his cheeks _still_ felt hot from the embarrassing exchange that afternoon.

“I bet it wasn’t that bad,” Louis said, though, he closed his laptop and set it aside so he could move to the couch, straddling the back of Harry’s thighs. He started to press his hands carefully into Harry’s shoulders. “Where did you see him?”

Harry sighed in relief when Louis started to massage his shoulders. He’d always been grateful for Louis’ skilled hands. “He works at the craft store down by the sushi place,” he murmured. “I had to get stuff for school, and he works there and I’m an idiot and don’t know how to talk.”

Louis nodded, rolling his knuckles down Harry’s spine. “So what? You tripped over your words. You’re a nervous talker anyway, Haz. He probably thought it was cute.”

“He thought I was dumb,” Harry whined, squeezing his eyes shut.

“No he didn’t,” Louis promised, pinching Harry’s back gently. “He was probably like, ‘oh wow look at what a cutie this guy is.’ He’s probably wishing he talked to you more. You gotta go back. See him again, ya know?”

“No way,” Harry said, pouting into the couch. “I can’t face him again.”

Louis rolled his eyes and shook his head, working his hands down to Harry’s lower back. “Nah. Gotta get in there again. Show ‘im who’s boss. Walk right up to him and just, just push him against those ugly wooden letters they sell and kiss the fuck outta him.”

“Yeah, okay, that sounds like me,” Harry grumbled.

“I’m serious!” Louis said, sliding his hands up Harry’s back again, though he leaned over his body, smirking as he pressed his lips against Harry’s ear. “Just take control, yeah? Use that nice voice you’ve got. You know you sound sexy when you talk all slow and deep. Get him on his knees for you right in the paint brush aisle.”

“Jesus Christ, Lou,” Harry whined, pushing his face into the cushion again.

Louis smirked, and he rocked his hips down a little, just to tease. “S’how you did it for me, isn’t it?” he breathed. “Could get him going with just your voice.”

Harry shook his head, eyes squeezed shut tightly. “Get off of me.”

“You’ll never know if you don’t try, babe,” Louis said, though he obeyed, lifting himself off Harry, smirking when Harry got up right away to hurry down the hallway. “Going to have a wank?” he called with a grin.

“Yep!” Harry said back. “Going to think about shagging your mum.”

“You’d be so lucky!” Louis quipped, smiling as he grabbed his computer again.

***

Two weeks went by of the agonizing pining over beautiful stranger Zayn. Harry saw him _everywhere_. At the grocery store two more times, almost every morning at the coffee shop, walking down the street, on the beach. At one point, he even glanced out the window while he was getting a tattoo, only to see Zayn walk right by the shop! Harry was starting to think that it was fate. But every time he thought he had the courage to say something to him, he backed down, or got too nervous. Zayn was intimidating! Harry had never seen someone so beautiful and stoic. How could he just go up and say something when he would probably sound like an idiot anyway?

Which was what he was thinking about while he waited for his sandwich in the deli. There were others waiting too, one of which of course was Zayn. Even the back of his head was beautiful. His dark hair was always so shiny and soft looking. Harry wanted to touch it.

_Harry?_

He wanted to run his fingers through it, to see if it actually was as soft as it looked.

_Harry?_

He wondered if it smelled good. It probably did. Zayn probably used some fancy, amazing fortifying shampoo.

_Harry!_

Zayn’s head turned then, his dark eyes locking on Harry’s, his eyebrows knitted together before one raised up slightly, and Harry just. _Stared at him._

“Harry!”

Harry was snapped out of his thoughts when he finally heard the man behind the counter calling his name, a sandwich set beside the register with his name scrawled across the paper. “Oh,” he breathed out, noticing now that not only was Zayn looking at him, but the other people waiting were, too. “Sorry,” Harry mumbled, quickly walking forward to pay for his lunch. He left a generous tip, before he hurried out of the building with hot, reddened cheeks, trying to pretend he didn’t notice Zayn’s smirk.

***

“Louis, there’s something wrong with me,” Harry whined that night, flopping down on the couch as he usually did, draping his arm across his face.

“Obviously,” Louis answered, rolling his eyes as he lifted Harry’s ankles so he could slide onto the cushions as well. He grabbed a controller, and started up the Playstation. “What now?”

Harry sighed, and curled up to face the back of the couch. “I want to talk to Zayn.”

“Harry, come on. Just do it already,” Louis said, frowning. “I’m sick of you bitching about it. Just say hi to him. It’s not that hard.”

“Fuck you,” Harry grumbled, glaring over at him.

Louis smirked then, and peeked over at Harry. “Been there, mate. Time to move on.”

“I hate you,” Harry said, sitting up finally, though he did kick Louis’ thigh beforehand. He reached over and snatched the controller away from Louis, causing him to whine.

“Hey!” Louis said, already lunging to get it back.

Harry stretched his arm up high, and put his free hand on Louis’ face to keep him away. “Talk to me about my problems!”

“There isn’t a problem!” Louis said, digging his fingers into Harry’s ribs. “Just talk to him! Hi, how are you, I’m Harry, and I think you’re cute. Boom. Done. Give me the goddamned controller!”

“It’s not that easy!”

“Yes it fuckin’ is!”

“No!”

“ _Yes_!” Louis jumped onto Harry, almost kneeing him in the nose, struggling to get his controller back. “I’m literally going to kill you! I’m going to cut your throat with that kitchen knife you like so much!”

“I’m going to tell everyone that you wear lingerie under all your clothes!” Harry threatened.

Louis gasped, and pinched Harry’s chest. “I do not!”

“I bet you’re wearing lacy underwear right now!” Harry shot back, smushing his hand onto Louis’ face.

“I’m not wearing anything, actually, you fuckin’ pervert!” Louis reached down, tried to slap Harry’s groin. “You probably still get off to it! Thinking about me wearing thigh-highs and shit!”

“I do not!” Harry shrieked, actually dropping the controller onto the floor now, but it didn’t matter much, since Louis was mostly just attacking him, now.

“Bet you’ve thought about your fantasy boy wearing something like that, too,” Louis said with a devilish little smirk.

“I have not!” Harry growled this time, getting angry now, as he flipped them over, and slapped a hand over Louis’ mouth. “Shut up! Just shut up!”

Louis glared up at Harry, though he stopped moving now, admitting defeat to the physical battle, at least. He shoved Harry’s hand away, and scoffed. “Whatever,” he mumbled, before wiggling out from under him. “Just talk to him, Haz,” he said, standing and smoothing out his clothes, before he trudged off to his bedroom.

Harry pushed his face into the arm of the couch and groaned.

 

Despite their little fight earlier in the day, Harry reluctantly agreed to go out with Louis to a club. In order to “get his mind off shit” according to Louis. So Harry was leaned against the bar with some fruity drink Louis bought him, scowling as he nibbled on an orange slice. He didn’t want to be there at all. He chose to watch Louis dance with a few people, while he sulked at the bar, and he wasn’t sure how much time had passed before Louis was flouncing over to him.

“Harry, that boy over there has been staring at you for the last ten minutes like he wants to eat you,” Louis whispered against Harry’s ear, pointing to a blonde boy down the bar a ways.

Harry looked over, and he offered the guy an awkward smile, before tilting his head back to Louis. “So?” he asked with a bit of a pout.

Louis rolled his eyes, and slipped his arm around Harry so he couldn’t lean on the bar anymore. “So. Go talk to him. Dance with him, flirt with him, bang him, I don’t care. Just get your arse over there,” he demanded, shoving Harry a bit.

“Louis,” Harry hissed, stumbling a bit forward, though he looked up to see the boy walking towards them anyway.

“Hi there,” the boy said, smiling at Harry, instantly stepping into his space. “I’m Spencer.”

Harry pulled on a smile, and offered his hand. “Harry,” he murmured. “Nice to meet you.”

Spencer looked amused, and he shook Harry’s hand, though kept their fingers together, and started to pull him towards the dancefloor. “Dance with me.”

Harry followed, because he didn’t want to be rude, but he glanced back at Louis, who was waggling his fingers at him before turning to flirt with the bartender. Harry danced with Spencer for only a few minutes before he looked forward, eyes landing on a pair of dark browns, staring right back at him. His heart was pounding along with the bass, the lights flashing down on him almost seemed heavy, and he removed his hands from Spencer’s waist, stepping away from him completely. He ignored the boy’s frown as he walked forward, the beating in his chest quickening when Zayn moved towards him, too.

“Harry, right?” Zayn said once he was close enough, one hand sliding up to Harry’s shoulder while his body swayed with the music.

“Uh, yeah,” Harry said, eyebrows furrowed.

Zayn chuckled, clearly sensing Harry’s confusion. “You spaced out in the deli today. Forgot your name and everything.”

“Oh,” Harry breathed. “Well, yeah, that was me,” he said, grinning sheepishly. He was trying to relax, trying to get his breathing under control. It was proving to be difficult though, dancing with someone as absolutely stunning as Zayn.

“Was kinda cute,” Zayn said, smirking at Harry. “Like you were deep in thought or something.”

Harry’s cheeks pinked slightly, and his teeth scraped against his bottom lip. “ _Something_ ,” he echoed, allowing his hands to finally rest on Zayn’s waist.

“I’ve seen you around. A lot, really,” Zayn said, smiling when Harry seemed not as tense. “Stalking me?”

“No! Of course not!” Harry defended quickly, his eyes wide.

Zayn laughed softly at that, and shook his head. “I’m just kidding. Relax,” he murmured, turning around in Harry’s arms slowly, pressing his back up against his front. He moved to the music--the speakers blaring a slow, sensual song. “I’m Zayn, by the way.”

Harry swallowed thickly, his hands settling again on Zayn’s waist, trying to sway with him. “I know,” Harry said, though, his eyes widened a bit. “I mean, well. I heard your name once at the coffee shop. They called your order and the name was unique so I just remembered it.”

“You’re adorable,” Zayn whispered, interrupting Harry’s babbling. “Don’t have to explain yourself.” He tipped his head slightly as he danced, hips pressed back against Harry’s, and he placed his hands over Harry’s on his waist, pulling them down a bit.

Harry let Zayn move his hands, and bit down on his bottom lip, trying to just focus on dancing and not the fact that the most beautiful creature in existence was grinding on him. They moved together, and the song changed a few times, different beats and sounds thrumming through Harry’s body.

Zayn turned around in Harry’s arms again, sliding his hands over his shoulders, staring up at him through dark eyes. “You wanna get outta here?” he asked, voice slow and quiet.

Harry met Zayn’s eyes, while his heart pounded in his chest, and he just barely looked passed his shoulder to see Louis seemingly trying to get away from some guy, stumbling over himself. “Shit,” Harry murmured, hands falling from Zayn’s hips. “I gotta go help my friend,” he said, looking down at Zayn again.

“Let’s go then,” Zayn said, nodding as he laced their fingers together. “Lead the way.”

Harry nodded, and tugged Zayn off the dance floor, though he let go of his hand once he got to Louis. “Hey, Lou,” he murmured, glaring at the guy who wouldn’t keep his hands off of Louis.

“Harry!” Louis slurred out, yanking himself away from the guy to drape himself around Harry’s shoulders. “My boyfriend, my lover, my ride home,” he said, burying his face in Harry’s neck. The guy lost interest pretty quickly after that, and Harry put his arm around Louis’ waist.

“You okay?” Harry asked, his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

Louis nodded, though he whined softly, peeking up at the other man standing with Harry. “Oh, you’re _cute_ ,” he breathed out, reaching to poke Zayn’s face.

Zayn laughed softly, and raised an eyebrow, looking at Harry. “Boyfriend, huh?”

Harry’s eyes widened, and he shook his head quickly. “Oh, no. He’s my roommate. He’s just drunk,” he defended, trying to support Louis’ weight.

“We fucked though. We did it like, eight billion times,” Louis said with a grin, poking Zayn’s cheek again. “He’s got a big dick, too, you lucky dog!” he added, while Harry’s face reddened.

“Please shut up,” Harry begged with a frown, before looking at Zayn again. “I’m so sorry. He’s just. I gotta get him home.”

Zayn smirked at that, and shook his head. “Don’t be sorry. I get it.” He nodded at Harry, and then helped him get Louis out of the club.

Louis babbled on about nothing in particular while Harry called a cab for them, and once it arrived, he practically shoved Louis inside. “But I want a caramel coffee!” Louis shrieked, landing face first in the seat.

Harry kept the door open so the driver wouldn’t take off, and he looked at Zayn once again, about to speak, but Zayn grabbed the front of his shirt to pull him closer, pressing their lips together hotly. Harry’s eyes fluttered, and he lifted his hand to cradle Zayn’s jaw as they kissed. It was over too soon, though, and Zayn pulled back with a smirk, brushing his thumb against Harry’s bottom lip.

“I’ll see you around, Harry,” he murmured, stepping up onto the sidewalk so he could disappear back into the club.

Harry stood in place a little dumbly for a second, before Louis started pawing at his back, trying to yank him into the cab.

“Were you gonna fuck him?” Louis mumbled when Harry was finally sitting beside him. “He was hot. Oh! Was that the Zayn guy? Oh, it was, wasn’t it? You look like a little boy who got his first kiss. You look like a baby. You look like--”

“Shut up,” Harry said, pushing Louis away from him, though he had to bite back a smile, reaching up to touch his fingers to his lips. He ended up spending most of the night comforting Louis while he got sick in the bathroom. But he was too happy to really mind.

***

Harry didn’t see Zayn again for almost five days. It really felt like the universe was trying to screw him over, after giving him a chance to finally meet Zayn and be around him and _kiss_ him, and then just ripping it all away. He’d forgotten to get Zayn’s number that night, with how overwhelmed he was with the situation--and Louis for that matter--it just slipped his mind. And now, he didn’t see Zayn anywhere. They didn’t run into each other at the coffee shop or the deli or on the street or at the park, and Harry was _angry_ about it. Why would the universe do this to him!?

After work on day five, he couldn’t control himself as he got into his car and drove to the craft store, hoping that he could at least catch a glimpse of Zayn. He felt a bit creepy, really, but he was also a little desperate. As he approached the shop, he noticed a door on the side of it open, and Zayn stepped out, heading towards the back of the building. Harry’s eyes widened, and his feet carried him forward, following after Zayn. He came around to a little area where Zayn was sitting on the top of a picnic table, cigarette poised between his lips--about to light it. So Zayn had _one_ flaw. Harry was still interested.

Zayn looked up when he noticed Harry, and he grinned, setting his lighter down. “Where have you been?” he asked softly, standing up from the table. He put his cigarette behind his ear, not even giving Harry a chance to answer before he was grabbing his shirt, pulling him close the same way he had the night at the club.

Harry’s hands came up to rest on Zayn’s waist as they kissed, Zayn’s arms wrapping around Harry's neck, but he walked back a few steps so he could be pressed against the wall. It was overwhelming for Harry--Zayn knew what he wanted and he was taking it. Harry kissed him a little harder already.

“I only have five minutes for break,” Zayn breathed out, his lips still brushing against Harry’s. “I get off at six. You should pick me up so we can finish this,” he murmured, pushing his hips forward, eyes locked on Harry’s.  

“I could take you to dinner,” Harry said, leaning in for another kiss while he cupped Zayn’s cheek.

“Not interested in dinner,” Zayn said honestly, turning his head so he could press a hot kiss to Harry’s jaw, quickly moving to his neck.

“I would take you somewhere nice,” Harry told him, his eyes fluttering as he tipped his head back slightly.

“You could take me home instead,” Zayn hummed, fingers sliding to Harry’s chest to unbutton the top two buttons of his shirt. “Put those nice hands to better use, yeah?”

“I’d buy,” Harry pressed, feeling his palms start to sweat as Zayn unbuttoned a third. “Anything you’d like.”

Zayn chuckled softly, shaking his head as he rocked his hips forward again. “Take me home and I’ll show you exactly what I like.”

Harry reached up to stop Zayn’s hands, and he pulled back slightly so he could look down at him properly. “I’d much rather take you to dinner. So we can get to know each other, yeah?”

Zayn sighed, and closed his eyes a moment, before he glanced back up at Harry. “What do you need to know? I’m single and clean and I think you’re bloody gorgeous and that’s enough, isn’t it?”

“Um,” Harry started, eyebrows furrowing as his cheeks reddened. “Well, I um. I’m not really into the whole one night stand type of thing,” he told him, letting go of his hands finally.

“Who says it has to only be one night?” Zayn asked, fitting their lips together again, hands smoothing over Harry’s chest.

Harry stopped him again, and he frowned. “You don’t want to go out with me?” he asked, though it was more of a statement than a question.

Zayn pouted at Harry, and looked down at his watch. “Look. I’m not interested in dating,” he said, and he reached easily into Harry’s front pocket to pull out his phone. “You’re hot. If you change your mind, text me. I gotta go back to work.” He added his number to Harry’s phone, and slipped it into his pocket again. “Send me a pic of that big cock of yours, yeah?” he teased, smirking before he headed back down the alley so he could go into the shop.

Harry stared after Zayn, his heart giving a stupidly painful lurch in his chest, and he stood there for a few moments before finally making his way to the parking lot for his car. Zayn; gorgeous, perfect, stranger Zayn just wanted to fuck around. And Harry wasn’t sure he could do that.

***

Harry did not text Zayn a picture of his dick. He did send a picture of his shoes, though, with a text of ‘Hi, this is Harry.’ Zayn texted right back his disappointment from ‘the lack of cock.’ The series of texts they sent to each other over the next few days were usually Harry saying something about himself, or sending Zayn pictures of flowers, and then Zayn responding with something brimming on sexual.

It wasn’t exactly how Harry wanted things to go down, nor how he imagined them before he and Zayn really met. But it was good enough. Zayn hadn’t stopped talking to him, which must have meant Harry held his interest, right?

 

“You didn’t respond to my picture last night,” Zayn said softly one morning, while they were both in line to get their start-the-day coffee. He was pouting, and he looked quite tired.

Harry smiled at him, shrugging his shoulders up. “I was sleeping. I told you good morning today, though.”

“But you ignored my picture. I thought I looked cute,” Zayn said, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Your face wasn’t even in it.”

“My mouth was.”

“It wasn’t appropriate.”

Zayn snorted at that, though Harry was smiling, and they moved forward in the line. “You liked it,” Zayn murmured, smirking a bit. “Bet you wanked to it.”

Harry’s cheeks heated up, and he shook his head, peeking down at Zayn. “Louis took my phone this morning. Maybe he did.”

“I’m glad your roommate appreciates my sexy texts,” Zayn huffed, bumping Harry’s shoulder with his own.

Harry laughed softly at that, nudging Zayn back before it was his turn in line. He ordered his usual, and then looked back at Zayn. “What are you getting?”

Zayn looked up at Harry, then at the barista waiting for the order, and his eyebrows furrowed. “Espresso macchiato, please,” he murmured, reaching for his wallet, but Harry was already handing the girl his credit card. “Did you just buy my coffee?” he asked through narrowed eyes as they moved away from the register.

“Yes?” Harry said, quirking an eyebrow. “Is that okay?”

“I can buy my own coffee,” Zayn told him, frowning slightly.

“I know you can. I was just being nice,” Harry said softly. “I mean, if you’re really bothered by it, you can buy next time.”

Zayn’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “Whatever,” he grumbled, stepping forward when they called his order. He grabbed his drink and glanced at Harry. “I gotta go. Thanks,” he murmured, locking their eyes just for a moment before he hurried out of the shop.

 

Harry’s interactions with Zayn went basically the same for a while. Harry tried really hard to get Zayn to go out with him, and Zayn tried really hard to get Harry into bed. Harry did manage to get Zayn to sit down with him in the coffee shop while it rained one morning, but even that only lasted ten minutes. And eventually Zayn let Harry drive him to work some days, where they would make out before Zayn had to go into his shop. Sometimes it got heated, but Harry would always stop it, threaten Zayn with a little lip bite and a promise to buy him an expensive dinner. Zayn would groan and huff and slam the door on his way out.

It would have been frustrating, if Harry didn’t find all of Zayn’s little quirks and mannerisms lovely. Everything about him seemed to pull Harry further and further into his crush. He liked Zayn’s voice and his laugh and the way his eyes got all sparkly sometimes. Harry liked how he kissed and how he walked and even how he didn’t stop trying to seduce him. Honestly, it was getting difficult to resist.

 

‘Come over,’ Zayn texted Harry one Saturday evening. Harry had been lounging on the couch alone, since Louis was out on a date.

Harry smiled, and pulled his phone up close to his face so he could text back. ‘There’s a Nicholas Sparks marathon on Lifetime. We could watch together?’

‘Like the notebook?’

‘Yeah, but that one was already on. The Last Song is on next.’

‘Bet ur a sexy crier.’

‘How can someone be sexy when they cry???’

‘Come over. we can cry all over each other ;)’

‘We could go to dinner instead?’

‘I’ll order in. just get over here.’

Harry’s eyebrows raised, and he bit down on his bottom lip, reading over the text again. So it was sort of like a date. They were going to eat together and watch a movie. He smiled, and texted Zayn that he would be there soon. He fixed up his hair and headed over to Zayn’s apartment complex, which was actually only a ten minute walk from where Harry lived.

When he knocked and Zayn answered, Harry’s eyes took in his appearance as they usually did. Zayn was wearing grey sweatpants low on his hips, and a black vest, his hair tousled into the perfect mess. “You look lovely,” Harry told him, smiling.

Zayn rolled his eyes, and took Harry’s arm to tug him inside. “Yeah, yeah, I’m gorgeous, I get it,” he said, smirking as he led Harry into the living room. He pushed Harry down onto the couch, and straddled him, wrapping his arms around his neck before kissing him, fitting their lips together hotly.

Harry’s hands moulded over Zayn’s hips, eyes falling closed as they kissed, but he pulled back after a moment, eyes glassy now. “Thought we were gonna watch a movie?”

“Haven’t tasted your mouth in a few days,” Zayn breathed as an answer, sitting up on Harry’s lap a bit, before lowering himself again, flicking his tongue against Harry’s bottom lip.

“Missed me, then?” Harry quipped, eyes fluttering while his hands moved up Zayn’s sides.

Zayn chuckled at that, and he shrugged, sliding his hands down Harry’s chest. “No more talking,” he whispered as his fingers worked on unbuttoning Harry’s shirt, and he kissed him again, slower.

Harry let him get through the first few buttons, before he lifted his hands to wrap around Zayn’s wrists, easily and carefully moving his arms behind his back, smirking against Zayn’s lips when he heard the man whimper softly. “You didn’t invite me over to just hang out, did you?”

“Course not,” Zayn said honestly, trying to move his arms, but Harry’s grip tightened on his wrists.

“Even though I’ve told you a million times that I’m not just going to fuck you?” Harry whispered against Zayn’s mouth, using his own sex appeal to his advantage. It was working.

Zayn whined softly, shifting his hips in Harry’s lap, struggling in his grip again. “But why? I promise it won’t be a one-off,” he murmured, looking down so he could lock their gazes.

“Because I want to take you out,” Harry told him, bumping their noses together. “Want to get to know you better.”

“You know enough,” Zayn said, exasperated. “You know where I work and the music I like and my coffee order,” he reminded him, wiggling his hips slowly.

Harry smiled too sweetly, and nodded, pushing his hips up to meet Zayn’s, but just a little. “I want to know more. All sorts of things. Where you grew up and your dreams and stuff.”

“I can tell you all that while I ride your cock,” Zayn begged, head tipping back as he grinded against Harry. “I’ll tell you anything you want.”

“Tell me you’ll go out with me,” Harry whispered, brushing his lips against Zayn’s jaw so he could talk into his skin. “Tell me you’ll let me take you out properly. Dinner and roller skating.”

“Fuck,” Zayn murmured, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to free his arms. “I can’t roller skate.”

“Mini-golf, then.”

“I hate mini-golf.”

“Horseback riding.”

“I’m afraid of horses.”

“The aquarium?”

“ _Harry_ ,” Zayn groaned, eyes still screwed closed as he rolled his hips down.

“Why won’t you go out with me?” Harry whispered, shifting so he could wrap only one of his hands around Zayn’s skinny wrists, holding tightly. His other hand slid up to grip Zayn’s jaw, making him look down at him.

“Why won’t _you_ just _fuck_ me!” Zayn hissed, staring at Harry. “I want you so bad.”

Harry smirked again, and he kissed Zayn then, soft and sweet, and he shook his head as he pulled back. “Sorry,” he whispered, finally letting go of Zayn’s arms, but he pushed him out of his lap gently.

Zayn whined as he slumped against the couch, and he glared over at Harry, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re the weirdest person I’ve ever met.”

“It’s not weird to not want to have sex right away,” Harry defended. “Look. I’m into you. I think you’re beautiful and interesting and funny and a lot more! I don’t want to just sleep with you.”

“Fine!” Zayn snapped. “I’ll go on a goddamned date with you,” he told him, still glaring at him.

Harry’s eyes widened, and his smile slowly brightened. “Really?”

“Yes,” Zayn grumbled, grabbing his phone from the coffee table. “If you promise to just _shut up_.”

“Well, I don’t want you to agree if it’s just to shut me up,” Harry said with a pout.

Zayn groaned again, and buried his face in his hands. “Harry. Just shut up. Just shut your beautiful fucking mouth.”

Harry peeked over at him, and tilted his head to the side. “Who are you calling?”

“I’m ordering pizza,” Zayn mumbled, phone tucked against his ear. “You like peppers and onions, right?”

Harry nodded, and leaned back against the couch, sighing softly. He felt a little guilty, but also accomplished, and a little too excited over the way Zayn reacted to him moments ago. So it wasn’t really a date at all, but they ate pizza and watched the ending half of _The Last Song_ before Harry headed home. If he wanked to thoughts of Zayn that night, no one had to know. Except for Louis who burst into Harry’s room when he got home from his terrible night out.

 

They scheduled their date for the following weekend, and Harry showed up at Zayn’s apartment at six o’clock on the dot.

“I was going to bring you flowers,” Harry said when Zayn opened the door. “But I figured you wouldn’t like that.”

Zayn chuckled, stepping out onto the stoop with Harry. “See? You _do_ know me,” he teased, already heading down the stairs. “Where are we going?” he asked, looking at the taxi waiting.

Harry smiled at Zayn, opening up the door for him, chuckling when Zayn rolled his eyes. “Well, we’re going to have dinner at Dionysus,’ and then I thought you could pick what to do next, as long as it doesn’t involve going back to your place,” he said with a grin, sliding into the back of the cab with him.

“Ruin my plans already, Styles,” Zayn said, smirking at him. “We could go to the club where we first met,” he whispered, batting his eyes playfully.

“We could do that, if it’s what you want,” Harry said with a smile.

They arrived to the quaint Greek restaurant only minutes later, and were seated at a small table draped in white, with a few tiny candles in the center. Water and bread were immediately served to them, and Zayn complained about the too-fancy-for-his-outfit atmosphere while Harry ordered them a bottle of wine.

Dinner went well, Harry thought. They both enjoyed their meals, and Harry made Zayn laugh a lot, which was _great_. Zayn’s laugh was so nice, and Harry kind of loved it. After sharing a plate of chocolate sponge cake and the last of the wine (even if Harry drank most of it), the two of them hopped in another taxi to go to Water Works, the club where they had first spoke to each other properly. It all went smoothly, gliding to the bar together and taking a shot each before heading to the dancefloor. Harry ended up having quite a few more drinks throughout the night, while Zayn only had a beer, and by the time one in the morning rolled around, Harry was pressed up against Zayn’s back, breath hot on his neck while he rolled his hips forward.

Zayn tipped his head back onto Harry’s shoulder, his body swaying slowly with Harry’s, smirking when he felt a hand slide low over his belly.

“You smell like cinnamon,” Harry breathed against Zayn’s ear, his voice slow and slurred.

“Oh yeah?” Zayn asked, reaching up to tangle his fingers in the back of Harry’s hair.

“Mhmm,” Harry hummed, pressing a hot kiss to the side of Zayn’s neck now. “Wanna eat you.”

Zayn’s eyes fluttered, his hips working back against Harry’s. “Think you’re a bit smashed, mate,” he whispered. “Maybe we should get you home.”

Harry shrugged, his body still moving with Zayn’s. “So you can try and get me to fuck you?” he asked softly.

“No,” Zayn said with a laugh, shaking his head as he turned around in Harry’s arms. “So you can drink some water and get to bed.” He took Harry’s hands off of his hips, tugging him off the dancefloor, and out of the club completely, while Harry babbled on about dancing more. Zayn managed to get Harry into a taxi, trying to still his wandering hands. “Calm down,” Zayn whispered, and Harry just laughed, burying his face in Zayn’s neck.

“Just like touching you,” Harry murmured, pressing his lips to Zayn’s jaw, his hands struggling in Zayn’s, trying to get free.

Zayn held on a little tighter, and shook his head. “No more touching,” he whispered with a smile. “Come on, we’re here,” he told him, paying the driver before he pushed Harry out of the taxi. He wrapped his arm around Harry’s waist, leading him up the stairs and into his apartment.

“Oh, _wow,_ ” Harry slurred, arm wrapped around Zayn’s shoulders as he took in his surroundings, even if he had been to Zayn's flat before. “This is _nice_. You have a nice place!”

“Thanks,” Zayn snorted, rolling his eyes as he helped Harry down onto the couch, and he tried to walk away, but Harry tugged him down with him.

Harry wrapped his arms around Zayn’s middle, and hummed softly. “Kiss me?”

Zayn narrowed his eyes at Harry, and adjusted himself on the couch so he wasn’t sprawled out across it awkwardly. “Fine. Just a little.” He smiled, and curled his fingers around the back of Harry’s neck, meeting him halfway to kiss him.

A content little noise left Harry’s mouth as he kissed Zayn back, hands smoothing over his waist, trying to bring him closer, though he got frustrated quickly and just pulled Zayn into his lap easily.

Zayn chuckled against Harry’s mouth, and wrapped his arms loosely around his neck, teasing his tongue between Harry’s lips, which Harry met right away.

Harry dropped his hands down to Zayn’s hips, his thumbs pressing firmly into the fleshy part of his hip bones, and Zayn let out a soft moan, his eyes fluttering as his body jolted. “Oh. You like that, don’t you?” Harry asked breathlessly, smirking as he pressed his lips to Zayn’s jaw now, nipping lightly at his skin while he swirled his thumbs in the same spot again.

“Fuck,” Zayn muttered, gripping the back of Harry’s hair gently. “Yeah. Little bit,” he said with a breathy laugh. “You’re drunk, though, Harry. We gotta stop.”

Harry hummed and trailed his mouth down Zayn’s throat, while his thumbs pushed again to Zayn’s hips. “Mm, don’t you want me to fuck you?”

Zayn moaned at that, eyes squeezing shut as he rocked his hips down a little. Harry’s cock was hard under his jeans, pressed up against Zayn’s bum. “I mean, yeah,” Zayn murmured, biting down on his bottom lip. “Not like this though.” He keened when Harry palmed against the front of his jeans, but his hand flew to grab Harry’s wrist, pulling it away reluctantly. “No, Harry,” he said pitifully.

“Why?” Harry whined, though he stopped, and rested his forehead against Zayn’s shoulder. “Thought you wanted me?” he mumbled.

“I do,” Zayn was quick to say, cupping Harry’s face now so they could look at each other properly. “I do. I want you so bad,” he told him, resting their foreheads together. “How about tomorrow, yeah? First thing in the morning. Can fuck me all you want,” he whispered, thumbing across Harry’s cheekbones.

Harry locked their eyes, his own a little droopy, and he sighed. “Promise?” he asked, head tilted slightly as he moved his hands to Zayn’s back.

Zayn nodded, and offered Harry a smile. “I promise. As much as you want,” he said, patting his cheek gently. “Come on. Let’s get you into bed.”

Harry let Zayn help him up and into his bedroom, where Zayn got him into bed, sliding in beside him. “Gonna rock your world,” Harry mumbled into the pillow, eyes closed.

“I know,” Zayn said with a quiet chuckle, timidly pushing Harry’s hair back from his face.

“Gonna fall in love with you, too,” Harry told him, and the last thing he remembered was seeing Zayn roll his eyes, smiling, with a faint blush on his cheeks.

 

When Harry woke in the morning, he was greeted with the sight of Zayn’s open mouth, drool spilling out onto the pillow beneath his head. And he was snoring. Loudly. But Harry couldn’t help but smile, despite his slight headache, and he reached over to gently brush his fingers across Zayn’s cheek. He watched Zayn stir, noticing the way his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth closed. It didn’t take too long for Zayn’s eyes to flutter open, and Harry smiled at him, fingertips ghosting down over his jaw. “Morning,” he whispered.

Zayn answered with a groan, and tried to bury his face in the pillow, his arms stuffed up under it. “Too early,” he grumbled.

Harry chuckled, resisting the urge to smooth his hand over Zayn’s back. “Not really,” he whispered. The clock on the nightstand read 11 am. “Last night was... _fun_ ,” he murmured, smiling at him.

“Mm. You’re quite handsy when you’re drunk,” Zayn said with a soft laugh, turning his head so he could face Harry again. He smiled and it made Harry’s heart swell.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Harry laughed quietly. “You didn’t take advantage, though. So that was nice.”

Zayn quirked an eyebrow, and he huffed. “Yeah, you’re welcome for not being a shit person,” he quipped, rolling his eyes.

“Really, though!” Harry said, grinning over at him, reaching to poke his cheek. “You coulda. I was all over you. I remember,” he said, smirking. “But you didn’t. You must really like me.”

“I actually dislike you immensely,” Zayn pointed out, hiding his reddening face into the pillow again.

Harry chuckled at that, and shook his head fondly. “You’re cute when you blush. I mean, you’re cute all the time, but now especially.”

“Get out,” Zayn growled, peeking at Harry only so he could glare at him. “I never want to see your stupid face again.”

“I’m sure,” Harry said, grinning at Zayn, and he leaned close so he could kiss his cheek. “Do you have any aspirin?”

Zayn sighed, but he nodded, rolling out of bed so he could trudge to the kitchen. He grabbed a bottle of aspirin, and filled a glass with water for Harry. “Marco’s cafe has really good breakfast sandwiches,” he said as he walked back into his bedroom, handing Harry the bottle and the glass.

Harry accepted with a quiet ‘thank you,’ and washed down two of the pills with the entire glass of water. “Oh? That’s nice,” he murmured, eyebrows raised as he set the glass on the nightstand. “Is there a reason you told me that?”

“Why are you making this hard for me?” Zayn whined, flopping back on his bed, covering his face with his hands. “It’s like you just enjoy seeing me struggle.”

“I’m sure I would _love_ to see you struggle,” Harry quipped, smirking.

Zayn groaned, and reached out so he could swat his hand against Harry’s stomach. “Do you want to have breakfast with me, or no?”

Harry beamed, then, and he nodded, grabbing Zayn’s hand gently. “I would love to.”

***

A couple weeks went by of seeing each other, though, they hadn’t called it anything specific. All that mattered was that they were only seeing each other. But they went out _a lot_ , so Harry had hope that maybe soon they could call it _something_.

On what happened to coincidentally be their month anniversary, Harry and Zayn had a nice dinner together, and then took a stroll through the park, since some committee had just put up pretty lights in the trees and along the small lake, and it really was beautiful. Harry babbled on about his offer to become a full time teacher in the school, and Zayn told him about a special discount program for teachers at his craft store.

When they got back to Harry’s apartment, Zayn stopped them and smiled up at him. “I had a really nice time tonight,” he said, threading their fingers together as they stood in front of the door.

“Me too,” Harry said, smiling down at him. “Thank you for dinner. I liked that place a lot,” he told him, thumbing across Zayn’s knuckles. He bit down on his bottom lip, and swayed their hands slightly. “Louis is working late tonight,” he murmured, shrugging his shoulders up.

Zayn quirked an eyebrow, looking up at Harry with a little smirk. “Oh yeah? Are you inviting me in, then?”

Harry chuckled and rolled his eyes fondly before he nodded. “Yeah, guess I am.”

“For non-drunken sex?” Zayn quipped, squeezing Harry’s hand.

“Yeah. Unless you’re no longer interested?” Harry said, smirking at him. “I could just put you in a cab home." 

Zayn laughed at that, and he leaned up to kiss Harry’s lips sweetly. “I’m interested. As long as you are.”

Harry smiled against his lips, and he nodded slowly, before gently tugging on his hand to lead him into his apartment. He kicked off his shoes, watching as Zayn did the same, and soon enough they were kissing again, Harry’s hands settling on Zayn’s hips. It moved along easily, their hands roaming over each other’s chests and waists, and Harry finally bent down slightly, so he could lift Zayn up by his thighs.

“Fuck,” Zayn breathed out, laughing softly as his arms wrapped around Harry’s neck to hold himself up. “Showing off how big and strong you are, huh?”

Harry snorted at that, rolling his eyes as he pressed Zayn up against the wall in his bedroom. “Not really. You aren’t even heavy,” he told him, ghosting his lips along Zayn’s jaw with a smirk.

“It’s hot. Not gonna lie,” Zayn said, laughing while he tipped his head back, eyes fluttering closed.

Harry smirked against Zayn’s skin, kissing down to his neck, before he pulled him off the wall, and dropped him down onto the bed, while Zayn sat up, fingers working in the buttons of Harry’s shirt. They were kissing again, Harry’s hands tugging at the bottom of Zayn’s sweater, trying to get it off of him.

Zayn hummed softly, and reached to wrap his fingers around Harry’s wrists. “Hey,” he murmured against his lips. “Wait.”

Harry stopped, and pulled back slightly so he could look down at Zayn, eyebrows knitting together. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Zayn said quickly, offering Harry a smile while he slid his hands up his arms. “I just want you to be sure about this, yeah? I don’t want you to feel forced or anything.”

“I don’t feel forced,” Harry said softly, pressing his forehead to Zayn’s. “I wouldn’t be doing it if I didn’t want to. Besides,” he paused, smirked, and gently pushed Zayn down onto his back, “it’s not like you’re gonna stop seeing me after.”

Zayn quirked an eyebrow, and watched as Harry settled on his knees in front of him. “How do you know? What if you’re no good? You’ve gotta please me well enough, Styles.”

Harry chuckled at that, and leaned close so he could nuzzle against the bulge of Zayn’s jeans. “I’m sure I’ll do a pretty good job,” he teased.

“Better prove it,” Zayn quipped right back, though his eyes fluttered as Harry slid his hands over his groin.

“I will,” Harry promised, smirking once again, before he was leaning back up to kiss him, licking into his mouth hotly while he smoothed his hands up under Zayn’s sweater.

Zayn pulled it off for him, tossing it to the side before he wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck, drawing him close to press their chests together.

Harry’s lips moved to Zayn’s jaw, down his neck, and to his collarbones, kissing lightly over the ink on his skin. “God, you’re gorgeous,” he breathed out, leaving a trail of sweet little kisses down Zayn’s chest to his belly.

“You’ve said that before,” Zayn muttered, eyes fluttering closed as he sifted his hands through Harry’s hair, giving it a gentle tug.

Harry hummed, sinking his teeth softly into the spot just below Zayn’s navel. “‘Cause it’s true,” he whispered, leaving a few more kisses on Zayn’s lower belly, before he let his teeth scrape over the jut of his hipbone.

Zayn shuddered, his stomach muscles twitching as he stared down at Harry. “Fuck,” he breathed out, his body trembling already.

Harry smirked into Zayn’s skin, peeking up at him as Zayn shifted around below him. “Stay still, love,” he whispered, fingers working on the fly of Zayn’s jeans, tugging it down after he popped the button.

“Can’t” Zayn said, lifting his hips up so Harry was able to slide his jeans off, his cock hard under his boxer-briefs. Zayn stared down at Harry, who was still clothed--shirt only unbuttoned half way. “Not planning on getting undressed?” he asked softly.

“Eventually, I will,” Harry said with a chuckle, smoothing his hands down over Zayn’s groin to his thighs, which made him tremble again. “You’re so shaky.”

“Yeah, I’m fuckin’ shaky,” Zayn groaned, head falling back as he gripped Harry’s hair again. “‘Cause some prick is teasing me.”

“Heeeey,” Harry drawled, quickly removing his hands so he could grab Zayn’s wrists, pulling his hands out of his hair and pinning his arms to the bed. “Can’t call me a prick when I’m about to suck you off. That’s just rude,” he whispered as he squeezed Zayn’s wrists gently.

Zayn wiggled around a bit, and whined, glaring down at Harry. “Think you’d let me call you whatever I wanted,” he whispered.

Harry hummed softly, and smiled, brushing his lips against the spot just above Zayn’s underwear “You’re probably right,” he whispered, hooking his fingers in Zayn’s waistband, before tugging the last bit of clothing off of him. He rested his head on Zayn’s hip, eyes focused on his cock as he wrapped his fingers around it, letting his thumb smooth across the wet tip, which earned a pretty little moan from Zayn. “Nice cock you’ve got, hmm?” He gripped his length firmly, not too hard, but enough for Zayn to _really_ feel it, and he gave him a couple strokes.

“ _Harry_ ,” Zayn breathed out, his now freed hand grabbing at the sheet below him.

“Yeah?” Harry asked casually, while he worked his hand over Zayn’s cock, though, honestly he didn’t want to wait anymore, and he hovered over him, before wrapping his lips around the head, suckling lightly. He tongued into the slit, eyes flashing up to Zayn’s face so he could watch him.

Zayn moaned quietly, his back arching off of the bed as he squeezed his eyes shut. His hands reached for Harry’s hair again, and this time Harry let him, eyes flashing up to Zayn’s face before he pushed down further on his cock. “Fuck,” Zayn groaned, his legs trembling.

Harry hummed around Zayn’s length, his fingers curling around the base. He bobbed down far enough to gag himself, which earned a loud growl from Zayn, spurring Harry on more. He loved the noises Zayn was making, and he never wanted it to stop. He used his thumb to apply a gentle pressure against his taint, moving it in a little swirling motion that made Zayn’s body twitch.

“Harry, please,” Zayn begged, his voice soft and desperate already.

Harry peeked up at him, and he pulled back, working his hand up and down Zayn’s shaft. “You want to get fucked, don’t you?” he asked, very casually once again.

Zayn groaned and nodded, tugging on his hair again. “Yes,” he whispered, staring down at Harry, though, his hands moved to Harry’s shoulders, gripping his shirt. “Please.”

“Okay. But just ‘cause you asked nicely,” Harry said, smirking at Zayn, before he leaned back and quickly undid the buttons of his shirt, letting it slide from his shoulders. He smiled when Zayn sat up, his legs spread around Harry’s knees, and Harry ducked down to kiss him while Zayn worked on getting Harry’s jeans opened up. The kiss was more languid than the others they’d shared, and Harry moaned softly into Zayn’s mouth once his hand was wrapped around his cock. He rutted his hips forward a little, swallowed down Zayn’s quiet panting.

“Please,” Zayn said again, pulling back to look up at Harry with glazed over eyes, stroking along Harry’s length.

Harry nodded, pressing a chaste kiss to Zayn’s lips before scooting backwards, almost tumbling off the bed as he tried to get his jeans and underwear down.

Zayn laughed at him. “Amazing,” he joked, lying back on the bed once again.

“Shut up,” Harry said, sticking his tongue out at Zayn before he opened up his nightstand to pull out a bottle of lube and a condom. “I’m charming and you know it.”

“I never said you weren’t,” Zayn told him, smiling as he reached to take the bottle from Harry, his other hand pulling him down onto the bed with him. “Come on. Wanna feel those nice fingers inside me.”

“Should I take off my rings?” Harry asked with a smirk, situating himself between Zayn’s thighs.

“No,” Zayn said, matching Harry’s smirk. “Keep them on.”

Harry chuckled and nodded, leaning close so he could kiss Zayn once more while he uncapped the bottle of lube, slicking his fingers. Opening Zayn up was easy, and it had Harry’s cock leaking against the mattress, each of Zayn’s little breathy moans making Harry _ache._ His sounds, mixed with his hands in Harry’s hair were driving him crazy, and once Zayn started to beg for Harry’s cock, he couldn’t take it anymore. Harry pulled his fingers out, and fumbled for the condom, while Zayn lazily jerked his own length.

“Hurry,” Zayn whispered, biting down on his swollen bottom lip. “Gonna make me lose interest.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Harry scoffed, smiling down at Zayn as he dripped more lube onto his cock. “Why don’t you flip over for me.”

Zayn’s eyebrows raised, and a devilish grin spread across his face. “Oh yeah? Gonna take me from behind, then?” he asked, though he obeyed, rolling over onto his belly, arching his back to push his bum up. “Thought you’d be a missionary man.”

Harry smirked, and shrugged, sliding his hands over Zayn’s bum, before hoisting him up by his hips. “Sometimes I am. Depends on the mood,” he said, leaning over Zayn’s body, making sure his cock nudged against his hole. “Not in the mood for that right now.”

“Mm,” Zayn hummed, pushing back against Harry’s hips, rocking his own to try and tease him. “What are you in the mood for?”

“Think I’m in the mood to fuck you into next week,” Harry answered, dragging his fingers down Zayn’s back.

Zayn’s eyes fluttered when Harry’s hands landed on his hips, and he wiggled back again. “Then do it.”

Harry nodded, and reached down to grip his cock, guiding himself forward and carefully pushing inside Zayn with a low moan. “Fuck,” he breathed out, head tipping back.

Zayn whimpered quietly, his fingers digging into the sheets as he felt Harry press inside all the way, and he moaned shakily, peeking over his shoulder at him. “Feels good. You’re fuckin’ big.”

“Guess so,” Harry said with a little grin, keeping himself still as he rubbed soothingly over Zayn’s hip.

“You can move,” Zayn whispered after a moment, rolling back against Harry’s cock slowly.

“Fuck,” Harry said again, hands tightening on Zayn’s hips, pulling a little moan from him. He moved, though, starting up a careful, slow rhythm, paying close attention to Zayn’s sounds and movements, not wanting to hurt him. He leaned over him again, pressing his chest to Zayn’s back, and brushed his lips over his shoulder. “You feel so good,” he whispered into Zayn’s ear. “Can’t believe I waited so long to feel you.”

Zayn moaned softly at that, his head tilting back. “Didn’t have to wait so long,” he murmured. “Coulda had me that time in the club. Or any other time.”

“I know,” Harry whispered, one of his hands snaking into Zayn’s hair to give him a little tug. “Wanted to make you wait,” he half-lied with a smirk.

“Bullshit,” Zayn breathed, body arched against Harry’s. “Wanted to hook me. Wanted to make me stay.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” Harry asked, his hips starting to move faster now, hand tight in Zayn’s hair to keep him steady. “Just liked you so much. Wanted you to stick around.” He snapped his hips forward, his cock all the way inside before he swirled his hips in a little circle.

“Ah, yeah,” Zayn groaned, eyes squeezed shut. “M’here. You’ve got me. Please,” he begged.

Harry hummed softly, and he let go of Zayn’s hair, leaning back up so he could grab Zayn’s hips again as he started to fuck him properly. It felt so good, how tight and hot Zayn was around him, Harry thought he was going to explode already. But then Zayn was telling him to go harder, and Harry couldn’t even dream of not giving it to him. “Yeah,” Harry grunted, reaching to grab Zayn’s shoulder as he pounded into him. “I’ve got you, don’t I? All fuckin’ mine,” Harry growled, pushing Zayn’s shoulder down so his upper body would press flat against the bed.

Zayn moaned loudly, face smushed into the pillow, and he clawed at the sheets, his cock leaking against the mattress. “Yes!” he cried out, his legs trembling already.

Harry groaned low in his throat, and he leaned over Zayn again, wrapping his fingers around Zayn’s wrists, holding him against the bed as he arched his back, fucking into him with hard, deep thrusts. It curled Harry’s toes, the sounds Zayn made, and it only made him work harder, snapping his hips forward faster so he could hear more and more of Zayn’s noises.

He stopped after a moment and sat back on his heels, cock slipping out of him, and gently rubbed his hands over Zayn’s back. “Fuck, you’re amazing,” he whispered, before wrapping his arms around Zayn’s middle, easily pulling him back into his lap so Zayn’s back was against his front.

Zayn moaned breathlessly, head tipping onto Harry’s shoulder. “Yeah?” he whispered shakily, reaching blindly down between his legs, trying to grab Harry’s cock. “Hope you’re not done.”

Harry chuckled at that, and shook his head. “Not yet, love,” he whispered, gripping his own cock before he shoved himself back inside Zayn.

“Fuck!” Zayn cried out, his eyes flying open as Harry’s hips snapped upwards roughly, his hands scrambling to hold onto something.

Harry growled as he gripped Zayn’s shoulder, holding him down on his cock. “That’s it,” he breathed hotly against Zayn’s ear, his other hand gripping his hip. “Take it so good, don’t you?” he kept his hips still, his cock deeply inside him, their bodies flush together. “God, you feel so good. Let me feel you, baby. Come on,” he whispered, nipping at his jaw.

Zayn nodded, whimpering as he lolled his head back on Harry’s shoulder, before his body tightened, clenching down around Harry’s cock, pulling a guttural little groan from Harry.

“Ah,” Harry moaned shakily, fingers digging into the fleshy part of Zayn’s hip. “Good boy. So fucking good.”

Zayn whined pitifully, his body clenching around Harry again, before a shocked sob spilled from his lips when Harry started to move again, pounding into him. Zayn put his arm around Harry’s neck, gripping the back of his hair roughly. “Fuck, yes,” he finally growled as Harry kissed him, wet and dirty and hard, their teeth clacking together enough to make Zayn wince.

Harry grabbed at Zayn’s other wrist, so he wouldn’t be able to touch his cock, and he held it against his belly. “Think you can come like this?” he asked against his mouth. “Just from me fucking you?”

“Yes,” Zayn groaned instantly, nodding as his body bounced from the force of Harry’s movements. “Know I can. Just, ah, just don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” Harry promised, locking their eyes, unable to help the tiny smile that fell over his lips. “You’re beautiful.”

Zayn laughed at that, head falling back as he yanked on Harry’s hair. “Yeah, yeah,” he teased, though he was smiling too. “Come on. Make me come.”

Harry smiled too fondly at him, and he kissed Zayn once more before jolting his hips up, keeping a fast, hard rhythm. “Gonna make you come all the time, aren’t I?” he whispered, their mouths still pressed together.

Zayn moaned breathily, nodding as he tightened his body around Harry again. “Uh huh,” he mumbled, struggling a bit in Harry’s grip.

Harry didn’t let go, though, thumbing across Zayn’s pulse on his wrist. “Mm, gonna make me come, too,” he whispered. “Feel so good, Zayn. Feel so fucking good on me.”

Zayn’s eyes squeezed shut, and he whimpered softly, nodding jerkily. “Kiss me,” he begged, dark eyes meeting Harry’s.

Harry slotted their lips together, kissing Zayn slow and deep, just the way he knew Zayn liked the best, and he rocked his hips up, making sure to get all the way inside him with each thrust. He moaned softly when Zayn told him he was going to come, and he fucked into him that much harder, before he could feel Zayn tighten again, breathy moans spilling onto Harry’s lips as Zayn’s body twitched and tensed. Harry barely got him through it before he was coming himself, spilling inside the condom with a low, deep growl, his own body stiffening.

Zayn panted heavily, and managed to wrap his arms around Harry’s neck, clinging to him as Harry’s wound around Zayn’s middle. “Fuck,” he whispered shakily, eyes slipping closed.

“Mm,” Harry hummed quietly, smoothing his hands over Zayn’s back. “You’re incredible,” he told him, carefully shifting his hips so his cock could slip out, and he quickly reached down to tug off and toss the condom towards his waste basket. He wrapped his arms around Zayn again, falling back with him on the bed. “God,” he whispered. “You’re _amazing_.”

“How many times are you gonna say that?” Zayn asked with a soft laugh, burying his face in Harry’s neck. “Was pretty good though. I guess,” he teased with a grin.

Harry laughed, and shook his head fondly. “You loved it,” he informed him. “Well. I hope you did.”

Zayn rolled his eyes, and propped himself up on Harry’s chest. “I loved it, you idiot.”

Harry beamed at that, and leaned up to kiss Zayn’s lips sweetly. “Stay tonight. Please?”

“Of course I’m staying,” Zayn said, snuggling into Harry again. “Want you to fuck me against the wall in the morning.”

“That sounds like a great idea,” Harry agreed, grinning again as he traced his fingers over Zayn’s arm. “And, if you’re lucky, I’ll make you breakfast, too.”

“Pancakes?”

“Obviously.”

“Good,” Zayn whispered, yawning, clearly not worried about the sticky mess on his belly. “Guess you could be pretty good boyfriend material.”

Harry bit back a grin, and chuckled softly. “All it takes is good sex and pancakes?”

“Mhmm,” Zayn hummed sleepily, eyes closed. “As long as they’re chocolate chip.”

Harry smiled at that, and nodded. “Whatever you want.”

 

*


End file.
